part 5
Chief climbed behind the wheel as soon as he'd pulled the uniform on and buttoned it up. The others were still getting ready in the back as he pulled out.
"Chief," Actor advised, from the seat next to him, "Put on some speed as you approach the gate. We are supposed to be in a hurry. It is alright to be rude to the guard."
"Not a problem." Chief grasped the steering wheel and picked up speed. When he finally put the brakes on at the check point, the truck slid, slightly, spraying the guard's legs with gravel.
When they arrived at the small medical unit they were instructed to wait in the outer office. They could see activity beyond the door, in the treatment area. Actor left the others, leaning against the wall, and moved in that direction. He stepped just inside the opening, and stopped, quickly taking in the scene. The doctor was still working with Garrison, stooping slightly over the man, to listen to his lungs. His hand reached down to the side of the bed, and straighten tubing that lay there. Actor's eyes followed it down to a bottle set on the floor, partially filled with bloody fluid, bubbling, rhythmically. The Warden was pale and still on the bed. Actor's gaze shifted to the man sitting nearby on a stool. Casino didn't appear to be in much better shape than their commander, and had been so absorbed in watching the injured man he had yet to notice his arrival. A quiet cough from the con man drew his attention.
Casino's eyes flicked quickly at the newcomer, and then back towards Garrison. In the next moment he frowned and looked back, relief flooding through him. He closed his eyes and said a quick grateful, prayer of thanks. Maybe they'd get out of this after all.
***
After they had transferred Krueger to the stretcher, and he had handed responsibility for him over to the tall dark medic, along with his records, the doctor turned worried thoughts to the aide, Johannes Schmidt. His mind went back to what the Colonel had told him about their treatment at the hands of their own government. Sadly, he found, he could believe what had been done to them. He wondered what would happen to this man if Krueger died. The testing he'd been able to do with him showed that he was intelligent, yes, but he was still almost totally disconnected from his language, understanding only the most basic commands. Without the ability to communicate how would he survive if he lost his protector? He watched the man, oblivious to all, concentrating only on his commander and friend, his hand clutching the edge of the stretcher as the orderlies carried it down the hall towards the open door. "Hans!" he called out. "Hans, Wartezeit! Hans!" he shouted, and finally got Schmidt's attention. He stepped forward and held out the bundle the nurse had made of Krueger's uniform and papers. Hans gazed at him without comprehension. He reached down and grabbed the man's free hand, pulling it up and around Krueger's things, pressing them on him until he felt him tighten his grip, pulling the items close to his chest. He put his hand on the mans shoulder and squeezed it, "Auf Wiederschen, Hans." and shook his head sadly as he watched them move down the steps and load the stretcher, securing it on the truck. Hans was helped into the back by the medic that would take them south to the large military hospital there for care. One of the orderlies closed the door and hit the flat of his hand on it, letting the driver know the doors were secure, then jogged to the cab and climbed in. Before he had lost consciousness Krueger had insisted that Schmidt had spoken to him, even called him by name. As the doctor watched the truck pull away, he shook his head again, remembering the man's blank stare, he did not believe it.
***
The rumble and cough of a old, overworked engine, whining with effort, and a jerk that sent pain coursing through his battered body, brought him out of his uneasy sleep. "How ya feelin' Lieutenant?" There was a figure in front of him and he squinted to make it out. "Sorry 'bout the ride, sir. The shocks on this dog 'r lousy." Garrison slowly focused on the slight built kid with the shock of red hair, matted on the side now with dried blood.
"You get hit, Corporal?" he managed to mumble. "You OK?"
"Aw, this? This ain't nothin'." The kid reached up and briefly rubbed his forehead. "I had way worse 'n this when we was teachin' my cousin Julian to hunt. Don't you worry 'bout this, sir." The truck bed jolted again and he felt the kid's hand reach out to steady him. There were supposed to be more of them, he thought, as the fog began to lift a bit.
"Where are the others?" His eyes closed again and he didn't see the dark look flash across the young man's face.
"They were pretty worried 'bout gettin' that film back, like they was ordered to, sir, so that lady, Greta? She sent them on ahead." Garrison nodded as the truck jerked again and the fog swirled back around him.
***
"I wish that damn medical insignia you were wearing really meant something!" Casino stared at him from the bench secured along the wall of the truck bed.
"As do I!" A caustic retort died on his lips when he saw the concern in the other man's eyes. "What's happened?" Actor asked as he turned back the blankets to check Garrison's dressings. "When we intercepted the radio call for help we thought it might be a ruse."
"It was no trick! Some guy shoved between us on the stairs. He must'a tripped or something. Next thing I knew he was laying at the bottom. I think he must of tore himself up pretty bad. The doctor seemed real worried about him." He ran a hand through his hair, "I hollered at him when he was on the ground out there Actor, and he didn't seem to know me. Just kept goin' on in German." Casino looked up and saw the shock and fear on the other mans, normally tightly controlled, features. "I know, I thought I was dead too."
***
They watched as Garrison fought the demons that came to him in his fevered sleep. Reaching out to keep him on the cot when his agitation worsened, worrying when he tried to fight them off.
"Actor, how come he's still talkin' German?" Casino asked
"I don't know, Casino. Possibly it's the fever, or the head injury, or it could be he just doesn't realize you two are out of there," Actor answered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"But he's been out of it, talking in his sleep, kinda." Goniff looked from one man to the other. "How's a bloke know to talk another language when he's out of his head?"
"He couldn't get stuck thinking he's that Kraut Colonel, could he?" Chief had been relieved of his driving duties by one of Martin's men, and sat against the bed of the truck opposite Actor.
"Naw! That'd be crazy!" Casino shot a disgusted look in Chief's direction and was met with wide eyed concern.
"That's what I'm afraid of." They turned their worried eyes on Actor.
"I just don't know," he said, meeting their stares. "I suppose something like that could happen. We aren't going to know until he either comes out of this on his own, or we get him back to the doctors and they tell us." Fighting down his own fear, he turned to check the dressings again and frowned as the Warden flinched at his touch and feebly tried to knock his hand away. "Casino, you stay near him. If he comes around again, you may be able to reassure him. He doesn't seem to recognize the rest of us."
Casino nodded and settled himself on the bed of the truck, closer to the stretcher. He was beat, and gradually, the movement of the truck lulled him into an uneasy doze.
The truck hit a rutted section of road, jerking Casino awake. It took him a moment to remember where he was. He glanced to the side and found Garrison, eyes half open, looking at him. He raised himself onto his knees and leaned forward, reaching for the other man's hand, a thankful smile teasing the corners of his mouth upwards. "Hans? Wo wir sind?" he heard and his heart dropped. Garrison closed his eyes, his brow furrowed, frowning, then he looked up at him again, harder, trying to focus. He was trying to say something, but Casino couldn't hear over the noise of the engine. He leaned in closer to catch it, "How you doing, Hans?" the Warden's eyes were on him again, focused, intelligent and aware. Casino bowed his head with relief and then shot a look at Actor who was moving carefully forward towards them. He gripped Garrison's hand tightly. "Just fine, Herr Oberst! I'm doin' just fine!"
Garrison lifted an eyebrow slightly as the truck jerked again, jarring them from side to side, mumbling he asked "Who's driving?"
Actor and Casino exchanged a smile, "The Indian, who else?"
"Mmm. Tell him to watch the potholes." And turning his head away he was asleep again.
***
"Where'd you find this thing, Corporal?" Craig asked, trying clear his head and match a name to the face and voice.
"Back a some ol' boys farm, rustin' in a field a cow pies."
The accent was definitely down south hill country, he couldn't pin it down, but he smiled to hear it. "Where you from, Jeffries?"
"Signal Mountain, Tennessee, sir!" He watched the kid sit up a little straighter and smile.
"Tell me about it."
"Aw, you don't wanna hear 'bout that, sir. You need to get some sleep. Take yer mind off things." The truck lurched again, rocking them against the sides.
"Don't think sleep's an options, Corporal." He looked back at the kid, and rested his head against the side wall of the truck. "Come on. It'll help pass the time."
"Well," Jeffries started off slowly, "I growed up there, my whole life. My Daddy before me, his Daddy before him. I think as soon as they was a Signal Mountain, they was a Jeffries in it, sir." He was laying the 'good ol' boy' accent down thick, and sweet. Garrison smiled as he closed his eyes and listened. "Not a great deal to do in Signal Mountain, sir. Just plant, 'n pick. Hunt 'n run 'shine."
***
"Actor," Goniff stuck his head through the opening from the cab, into the back of the truck. "There's a roadblock up ahead of us."
"Alright. Goniff, change places with me." Reaching out and picking up the file the doctor had given him, he moved into the cab and settled in the right hand seat. He rifled through the papers, concern mounting. "The identification papers aren't here!" Casino looked around the back of the truck, spotting the uniform the doctor had shoved into his hands. Stretching out he pulled the things towards him, and lifted the jacket, tossing it to Actor. Krueger's ID disc dropped to the floor between them. Actor picked it up and started searching through the pockets of the jacket, a look of surprise flashed across his face and was gone in an instant. He removed the wallet containing Krueger's papers, and their orders, as they pulled to a stop in front of the barricade, placing the uniform jacket on the floor between the seats.
Before the guard could approach Chief, Actor opened the door of the truck and stepped out. He snapped a question at the soldier, as he moved around in front of the vehicle, holding the papers out towards him. He stood over the man, berating him in his most officious manner, while the papers were checked, and then snatched them away from the guard, when he finished, and they were offered back to him. Turning on his heel he moved quickly back to the truck, jerked the door open, and fired off another caustic remark in the direction of the soldiers, who were hurrying now to clear the obstruction in the road to let them pass. He ignored them as they saluted, when the truck pulled through. Chief turned a considering eye on him, and let out a low whistle. Actor bent and retrieved the jacket before ducking through to the back of the truck.
***
They had stayed in the ambulance the first day of travel, but as they got further away from German held territory, they had decided to abandon it, in favor of less conspicuous transportation. Garrison had drifted the first day, in a haze from fever and drugs, but as the supplies were running low Actor had cut back on the amount of morphine he was giving him. As a result, he was more aware, and in much greater pain. When they had changed vehicles Actor had believed his breathing had improved enough that they might risk removing the chest tube the doctor had placed back on the base. The drainage had nearly stopped, but as he drew it quickly, steadily out, and placed a heavy petroleum bandage over the small incision Actor hoped he had not done anything that would cause a reversal in the Warden's condition. Goniff, the group's resident 'Mother Hen' had to give way to Casino, who had taken a somewhat proprietary interest in Garrison and his well being since serving as 'Hans', faithful aide, and companion.
With the tubes removed Garrison had greater freedom of movement, and wasted no time in trying to get around on his own. He had spent most of the last leg of the journey to the coast propped up in the corner of the truck. He was sitting there now, pale and disheveled. The dark circles under his eyes revealing the pain he refused to admit.
Actor climbed through from the cab of the truck and came to sit next to Garrison. "I found the film and blueprints." He stated as he checked the other man's pulse, it was rapid, the wrist he held, hot. "How did you come to have those with you?"
Garrison grimaced as he took in a deep breath, leaned his head back against the wall of the truck and regarded the confidence man through half closed eyes. "I don't know. It was getting to feel..." he paused, searching for words, "...too close. We had the film. We had the stuff on the other projects. They left copies out after the test," shrugging a shoulder up and then letting it drop. "I decided to take one and..."
"And stage a fall on the stairs?" Actor asked calmly. Casino's head snapped up and he locked his eyes on Garrison's face.
"Yeah. Well, that didn't go exactly as I had planned."
"You crazy son of a bitch!" Casino nearly choked on the words. "Do you know what coulda happened? Of all the bone headed, idiotic stunts you've pulled in the past, this one's gotta take the cake. Somebody oughta lock you up, man, or tie you into one a those straight jackets 'cause you're nuts." Climbing to his feet, he started to pace. "You coulda got us killed!"
"Casino!" Actor warned
"No. Let him talk." Garrison said, quietly, from his corner, "He's just expressing an opinion."
"That's right!..." the irritated safecracker jabbed finger at his commander.
And they all listened, as he passionately, and loudly, continued to express it for the next several minutes.
He had begun to wind down when Actor, thinking Garrison asleep again, raised his hand to put a stop to the tirade. "Enough Casino. Enough!"
"Yeah! Well you all know I'm right," he groused, as he slid back down against the wall of the truck.
Garrison opened his eyes and cast a questioning glace at him as he settled himself back in his position on the floor of the truck. "You finished now? You get to say everything you wanted to?"
Casino tilted his head back and fixed him with a defiant stare.
"You want to hear my opinion now?" he asked.
"Yeah. I guess."
"OK" closing his eyes, he said, quietly. "In my considered opinion, Casino, you'd better be damned glad that man's name was Werner." And in the silence that followed, as the color drained from Casino's face, he went back to his troubled sleep.
***
Their contact in the costal village had taken them out beyond the breakers, into deep water, where they transferred to the ship that would take them across the channel to England. Garrison had been checked out by the medical officer, and the younger man had been sedated, but was hardly experiencing what Actor would term, restful sleep. Each one of them had spent some time at the bedside, in case their presence was required to help reassure, or calm him. The doctor was with him again, and the weary men had gathered together in the ships mess for coffee.
"Man, I see what you mean about the dreams!" Chief breathed into his cup.
"Yeah!" Goniff looked up, kneading the muscles of his shoulder. "Blimey, anybody get him to tell 'em what they're about?"
"Naw, he won't talk. Now, anymore than he would back there." Casino's arm slipped along the table and his head fell off his hand causing a snort of tired amusement from Goniff.
"He might not even remember them, Casino," Chief offered.
"How can that be? How can somebody not remember something that must be that awful?"
Actor was letting the conversation flow around him as he turned the pages of the report the German doctor had provided, translating the man's notes now, for his English counterpart. As he worked his face became grim and his mouth settled into a forbidding line. His movements, usually flowing and graceful, became abrupt, brusque. Drawing the other men's attention, they watched as he worked through the medical file. They'd never seen him react like this before. Usually he was cool, calm and in control. Now he was furious. Mumbling to himself in Italian he flipped through the pages, becoming more, and more angry, until he could contain himself no longer. The small scars had registered in the back of his mind when he first changed the bandages after they had parachuted in, and again, in the ambulance, when he'd removed the chest tube, but the significance hadn't been clear to him, until this blinding moment of realization and fury. "Il Mio Dio! Che cosa erano che pensano!" he growled, as he slammed the papers down on the table in front of him.
"What in the hell's in there?!" and as all eyes were on him, he tried to bring his anger under control.
"This is the doctor's report from the first examination. When you first arrived," he said, looking at Casino across the table. "He reports on the Warden's recent injuries, and also mentions other marks on his body, and gives his opinion as to what has caused them."
"What're you talkin' about?" Casino looked back at him, puzzled. "He had those two bullet holes, some busted up ribs, and bruises..."
"And burns, Casino," he added, darkly.
Casino looked straight into his face. "Like he was in a fire, or something?"
"No. Point burns. Contact burns."
"What does that mean, exactly?" Chief asked leaning forward in his chair.
"He'd been tortured, Chief," Actor said, with ominous quiet. "It means he's been tortured."
"Bloody Hell!"
"Damn! When? How long ago?"
"Not long. Just before the crash, the other injuries. The scars are newly healed."
"Somebody had him ,when we were in training, and they never said nothing' about it?!" Casino brought his fist crashing down on the table. "I'll kill that Edwards guy!"
"Uccisione il bastardo!" Actor hissed "You won't have to!"
"What would a caused that? Those burns?" Goniff stared straight ahead and didn't think he wanted to hear the answer. "Do the papers say that?"
Actor took a deep breath, "He thought they were most likely cause by an "electroshock" device. He's even included a summary of a conversation he had with Krueger" checking back through the pages, "In which he tried to get him to talk about exactly what happened, and who did it."
Chief asked quietly, "Did he tell him?"
"No. He just implied that it was Gestapo."
"God! I remember that!" Casino looked around the table. "They got real serious and quiet. And that doctor guy kept looking over at me, and then back at him, and shakin' his head, like he was trying to wake up from a bad dream, or something'... When I asked the Warden about it later, he just blew it off. Told me they were discussin' how crazy the war, the world, was gettin."
Actor shook his head, he couldn't believe what Garrison had done. "He wove what had just happened to him into the con, Casino. He must have. That would explain his nightmares, if anyone noted them. And I would wager he drew you, drew 'Hans', into the story too." He sat back and looked at the men sitting at the table with amazement. He knew he'd never have been able to pull anything like that off.
***
The ship had docked in the early hours of the morning. An ambulance had been waiting to take them to the hospital. Garrison had been thoroughly examined again, and now was in a quiet, darkened, private room. The doctors had discovered that the bleeding had continued in his chest and was pushing the lung to a point of collapse again, so the tube had been reinserted. IV bottles hung from racks next to the bed, and he was tucked under an oxygen tent, erected to ease his labored breathing.
When the they had found out that Casino had been under the strain of maintaining a false identity, working undercover, the doctors had insisted on a complete check up for him as well. He'd been released, only moments ago, when it was apparent that he wouldn't be following doctors orders to stay in the hospital and get some rest. They were all waiting in Edwards's office now, waiting for the debriefing that followed every one of these jobs, to begin. Each one knew this wasn't going to be a routine debrief.
"You had him out there alone, you bastard!" Chief bit the words off, through clenched teeth. "And when he got him self caught, you didn't even have the guts to tell us!"
"Chief, he was picked up, and held for four days. We didn't even know about any of that until after the Resistance got him out, and he was on his way back. And he wasn't alone!" Edwards tried to explain.
"Well, once you got your hands on him, your sure as hell, could a told us about it!" Goniff took up the argument. "Bloody Hell! He was hurt! We shoulda' been here!"
"His injuries weren't felt to be that serious..."
"That serious! Edwards, you better stay as far away from me, as you possibly can. Because if I ever get my hands on you..."
"Casino!" Actor moved quickly, to cut off the enraged man, as he advanced on the Army officer.
"It's alright, Actor. Look," Edwards said turning his hands up in surrender. "When the doctors finished with him, they didn't report anything serious. Nothing life threatening, anyway. He'd lost some blood, sure, had some cracked ribs, and was pretty well beat up, but that was it. Command took a look at him, and..."
"...and thought he'd be perfect for the part of Krueger?" When the other man didn't respond, Actor continued, "You had this job in the works already, didn't you?"
Edwards dropped his gaze to the floor and studied the pattern in the carpet at his feet. "The orders for Krueger's participation on the research project had just been intercepted. The resemblance between the two of them and already been noted when Krueger went through his first debrief. Right after we got him over here." He looked up at them, "Even Lieutenant Garrison's injuries worked for us."
"When did you decide to send him in?" Chief asked quietly
"The day after we got him back." Edwards tried to meet their gaze, and failed.
"I don't believe you guys!" Casino hissed, pulling his arm free of Actor's restraining grasp.
"Casino, we showed him the materials. We let him go over everything, and we left it up to him. He decided to go in."
"Of course he did!" Spinning away from Edwards he appealed to the others, "He's crazy!" Casino punched the air with his fist. "And, damn it! He didn't have anybody around to remind him of it!"
***
He'd let them have their say. He listened to every word, every epithet, and every threat. It had all been true. Every word deserved. In the end when they left him to return to their vigil at the hospital they were spent, exhausted. Edwards thought, with a wry smile, he'd been lucky to survive the interview.
***
Chief had been on the prowl for over an hour now. Casino hadn't been in their quarters when he woke up. His bed was all rumpled, but it hadn't been slept in. That was the third night this week. Chief had gone looking for him. He'd been through the mansion from basement to attics, and had now taken the search out onto the grounds, finally finding Casino, sitting astride the section of wall they usually used to get away from the estate, for their unauthorized forays into the town, and beyond. He considered him for a moment, and then moved forward silently. Leaning against the base of the tree that was their access to the top of the wall, he continued to watch Casino as he stared off towards the town. "Feel like a beer, Casino?" he asked quietly.
Casino jumped and clutched the top of the wall. He jerked his head around and stared down at Chief. "Damn it! Don't sneak up on me like that, will ya! You're gonna give me a heart attack or somethin'!"
Chief stood still, gazing up at the him. "What's the matter, man?"
"What d'ya mean?" Casino bristled.
With a shrug the Indian said, "Dunno. You just seem kinda quiet since we been back. Not really like you." He continued to stare steadily until Casino looked away.
"Aw, it's nothin'." Chief just waited. It'd come, if he just waited long enough. "It's crazy." Casino looked back down at the young man standing below him. "It's just that... I don't know. Those guys over there... It's just... ..they weren't. ...I don't know," he said with an exasperated sigh.
Chief looked away for a moment and then gazed back up at his friend. "Its just...they weren't any different from you?"
Casino covered his face with his hands and scrubbed hard, before dropping them back on his legs. He took a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah. I guess." And as the silence stretched between them he tried to sort out what he was feeling. Those guys were Krauts, for cryin' out loud. He was over here to kill the bastards, damn it, and he'd just spent better than a week livin' right in the middle of a big crowd of them. He'd had meals with them. He'd seen pictures of their families, their kids, or their girls back home. And he'd heard the loneliness when they'd talked about the pictures, even if he couldn't understand the words. He heaved a sigh, swung his leg back over the fence, turned, and dropped onto the ground next to the tree. What he was feeling didn't make sense. He looked at Chief, who still stood silently, waiting. "I'm just glad nobody decided I needed to blow that place up, over there." And when the damn Indian just continued to stare at him, he had finally added. "I'm not sure I coulda done that."
Chiefs smile was nearly imperceptible, but they'd worked together long enough now, and Casino saw it. When he'd just nodded his understanding and turned back towards the mansion, Casino had found comfort in that silent acceptance.
"Come on, Pappy," he said over his shoulder. "Actor says they're lettin' the Warden out today. Let's go bring him home."
***
"You deal in moonshine, Jeffries"
"Aw, Hell! No, sir! My Mamma'd a killed me if I'd had anything to do with that. Naw, I didn't run shine, sir." He paused, for effect, waiting, and when Garrison opened his eyes to look at him again, a slow smile spread across the kid's face, and he winked before he continued. "I just worked on the trucks, 'n cars, 'n stuff, for my uncles."
Craig thought back, trying to remember what he'd heard Casino say about his uncles involvement in the 'rum runnin' racket' during prohibition, and tried to figure the odds on the two families knowing one another. "That where you got to be so good with engines?" he asked.
"Well, there, and th' Academy, sir." Garrison raised a questioning eyebrow. "The Chuqualataque Academy, sir!"
"That some kind of technical school, Corporal?"
"Ah," there was a pause while he chewed on the inside of his cheek, "No, sir." Jeffries reached up, wincing, as he rubbed the scalp over his right ear. "Ah," another pause, "That's a kinda', reform school, kinda' school, sir. Uhmmm, I didn't exactly 'splain that to the recruiter, sir."
Garrison let his eyes slowly close. No, he didn't remember that being in the records. And as he drifted back towards exhausted sleep, he wondered how Richards would square that with the Army's idea of what kind of men they wanted for this kind of work. "Your secret's safe with me, Corporal." Maybe they'd get out of this after all. The trucks wheel dropped into another hole causing them to be thrown against the sides again. He hissed in pain and hugged his ribs. "Who's driving this thing?"
"That's Ottir, sir."
"Tell him to watch the pot holes."
"That Ottir, sir, " Jeffries said, leaning in close, and dropping his voice into a stage whisper. "He's a little crazy, sir." He pulled the blanket up around the Lieutenant's shoulders, "You go ahead, and get some shut eye, sir." He leaned back against the wall of the truck and watched the older man sink back into sleep. "I'll keep an eye on him for ya".
***
When he reached the bottom of the steps he looked up, and caught his breath, as he watched Baskins step smartly across the drive towards him, and snap off a salute... He closed his eyes, and shook his head to clear it. When he opened them again he was looking into Actor's concerned face.
"Warden, are you alright?"
Garrison hesitated. "Yeah... No..." he stammered, "Actor, I'm OK. It's just..." Then he looked down at his feet, when he looked up again he smiled, bleakly, and asked. "What's up? Sergeant-Major said you needed me out here."
Actor considered the younger man for a moment, then smiling, he explained, "Well, since you were unable to attend our graduation ceremony, the others thought you might enjoy seeing what they could do."
Garrison looked across the wide expanse of lawn, and then gazed down the drive where he saw half the estate guards gathered. He could make out Casino and Goniff, and assumed Chief was somewhere in the crowd. "What? Are they going to parade across here?" He gestured with his chin.
"Sergeant-Major has given his permission," the other chuckled. "In fact, he will be our Drill Sergeant and Master of Ceremonies."
Garrison raised his eyebrow, questioning. "You gonna be in this?"
Actor bowed, tipping his head slightly to the side. "Of course!" He indicated a chair that had been brought up from the mess hall. "Please, take a seat in the grandstands."
The Italian's long legs carried him swiftly down the drive, where he joined the others.
Garrison looked after him for a moment, and then stepped over and lowered himself, carefully, down onto the chair. He looked back down the drive, and found the Sergeant-Major watching him intently, waiting for his signal to begin. He raised his hand and waved them on.
He heard the snap of orders bringing the men to attention, and watched as they formed into ranks. The Sergeant-Major waited for a moment. "Like a conductor," Craig thought, "Letting the anticipation build." Then he heard the bark that set them off, and the cadence called out, as they moved up the drive. The unit of men looked pretty good as he watched them approach, but then there was a moment of discord, when Goniff, who was in the front rank, had to make a little skip, to get his feet back in rhythm with the rest. He saw Casino pop off a wise crack at the little cockney, which caused Goniff to miss step again. They seemed to recover pretty well, and they'd nearly come abreast of his position when the Sergeant-Major called out an order designed to turn the group to the right, by ranks. All hell seemed to break loose then. Goniff went left, instead of right, and ran into Casino, who stumbled into Chief, who was in the second rank, just making his turn. Chief fell into a man in the third rank, who was still moving forward. Casino, who'd landed on his knees on the gravel drive, grabbed Goniff by the front of his shirt and tossed him onto his back, which caused most of the men in the first three ranks to trip over the two of them and fall.
Garrison was holding his injured ribs, and laughing so hard, tears were forming in his eyes, as he watched his men disentangle themselves from the heap of arms, legs, and polished boots. He was still laughing, and having a hard time getting his breath, when the four cons came up to stand around him. They exchanged relieved looks over his head. They hadn't heard him laugh in a long time, maybe it was just what the guy needed.
"Oh God! I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he sputtered. "I really wish I could have seen the real thing..."
"No! I assure you!" Actor gestured back towards the drive. "That was a faithful re-enactment of the events, just as they occurred."
Garrison laughed even harder, and then tried to get up. When he couldn't manage on his own, Casino wrapped his hand around the man's arm, and hauled him to his feet. "I don't believe it! There wasn't anything about that in the reports!"
"Probably didn't want us back." Goniff grinned sheepishly around the group.
Craig wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Come on! I'm buying! Now I gotta hear everything you clowns did while you were up there."
As they turned towards the jeep parked near the steps Actor laid his hand lightly on the Warden's shoulder and felt him tense and pull away. "And you can tell us what you were up to, while we were in training."
Garrison's step faltered, and the others looked at him with encouragement.
He looked down a moment, then sighed, looking up, maybe he would tell them after all. He squared his shoulders. "Come on," he said. "Let's go."
The end
